


This Moment's Madness

by zzegnas



Series: Misadventures of Decuyper House [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:05:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzegnas/pseuds/zzegnas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“You’ve done something bad, haven’t you,” Liam says sternly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Niall can feel the inside of his stomach burning from shame, and looks at Liam with his head down.  Liam’s forehead is wrinkled, struggling to keep Louis on his feet, and Niall’s startled when Liam crushes the can in his hand.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m taking Louis back to the house.  I don’t know what it is you’ve done, but don’t come back until you fix whatever you’ve broken.”</em>
</p><p>–<br/>Niall makes a huge mistake when he rejects Harry, and spends the rest of the night regretting everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Moment's Madness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bisousniall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisousniall/gifts).



> Thanks to [Any](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cmdf) for the beta :)
> 
> Just a side piece from Niall's point of view in "Whole Weekend Recovery", right when Harry and Zayn discover him during the party at MacDiarmid Hall.
> 
> Title from "[Matter Of Feeling](http://youtu.be/5n0Ef2R4YrQ)" by Duran Duran.

Niall can’t breathe.  He can’t speak.  All he can do right now is think.  He’s thinking about how he hurt Harry, how he’s made one mistake after another in the last two hours since he left Decuyper House.  Niall gave his medallion of Saint Christopher to Harry and he touched Harry’s bare skin, drawing the outline of the bird tattoos he never knew were there.  He looked into Harry’s eyes, their faces inching closer and closer until he ruined their moment and walked away from Harry out of fear.  It’s quite possibly the worst decision he’s made since the night started.

Now Niall’s in an empty dorm of MacDiarmid Hall, getting a blow job from Felix, a desperate classmate who's been vying for his attention for the last two hours.  Agreeing to this just adds on to the never ending list of mistakes Niall’s made and it’s too late to get out of this, too late to say he’s thinking of Harry, the only person who can make his heart stop at any given moment.  From the top of his curls to the bottom of his brown biker boots, it’s all that’s flashing through Niall’s mind.  Felix isn’t doing a very good job of sucking him off, and Niall’s got his eyes closed as tightly as possible, imagining Harry is the one with his mouth on his cock and his cheeks hollowed, looking at Niall through his eyelashes with his big green eyes, driving him over the edge.

Niall thinks about the time he fooled around with Harry, how desperate he was to touch him, to be closer to the boy of his dreams.  He wanted to kiss Harry’s body, feel every part of him he had yet to see, and by the grace of a sexual god in his favor, Harry wanted it just as bad as he did.  They kept their clothes on the entire time, but Niall could have cared less about what got in the way as long as Harry kept going, kept grinding his hips, and kept whispering Niall’s name until they both got each other off.

Niall shoots his eyes open when he feels his stomach tense, slowly moaning Harry's name several times before he quickly pushes Felix away from him, and comes all over his exposed stomach.  Niall wipes off his come onto the bare mattress with his hand, refusing to let Felix taste what was meant for Harry.  In one swift move, Niall swings his legs over the bed and stands up, quickly zipping his jeans and fixing his clothes.

“What the hell was that?” Felix asks confused.  “My name’s not 'Harry'.”

“This was a mistake, you shouldn’t have come on to me.  I don’t even know you.”

“Don’t know me?  You acted like you knew me half an hour ago!”

“And I won’t know you half an hour from now, it makes no difference.”

“Oh, fuck you!  You think you can just make me do what I did without getting something in return?”

“I did not agree to return a fucking thing,” Niall growls.  “You came on to me and I let you do it because I needed to feel something else other than pure agony.  And let me tell you, I’d rather chop my legs off than to have you suck my dick again.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?  Just because you broke away from your little asshole friends doesn’t mean you get to––”

“Don’t you _ever_ talk about my friends like that!” Niall screams, grabbing Felix by his shirt collar.  “I care a lot more about them than I do about you and I don’t need your bullshit sob story to keep me here.  Don’t come near me and don’t _ever_ speak to me again.”

Niall shoves Felix away from him, breathing harshly through his nose.  He clenches his fist, ready to strike, but walks away instead.

"You’ll be back, Niall!" Felix shouts from behind.  “You’re going to regret walking away from me!”

“I’ll be back to break your fucking neck!” Niall shouts back when he’s at the doorway.

Niall runs down the hall as quickly as possible until he’s in the cramped confines of the party, hoping Felix wouldn’t find him there.  He fights his way through the room and catches Liam by the makeshift bar, holding an incredibly drunk Louis upright with one arm, and a can of Coke in the other.

“Niall!  Where have you been, man?” Liam asks with a smile.

“I was… I was…” Niall trails off, then looks around the room in confusion.

“Are you okay?  You’re a bit off right now.”

“Where’s Harry?  Have you seen him?” Niall asks in desperation.  “I need to talk to him.”

“I saw him maybe ten or fifteen minutes ago?  Right before I took Louis to the bathroom to vomit.”

“Fuck!” Niall says under his breath.  “Is he still here, do you know?”

“Sorry captain,” Liam says sadly.  “I texted him but he hasn’t said anything.”

Niall pulls out his phone, hopelessly searching for a text from Harry, but only finds a message of a happy face from Liam.  Niall groans in frustration, desperate to corner Harry and apologize to him, to tell him he was an idiot for doing what he did and he’ll do anything to redeem himself.

“You’ve done something bad, haven’t you,” Liam says sternly.

Niall can feel the inside of his stomach burning from shame, and looks at Liam with his head down.  Liam’s forehead is wrinkled, struggling to keep Louis on his feet, and Niall’s startled when Liam crushes the can in his hand.

“I’m taking Louis back to the house.  I don’t know what it is you’ve done, but don’t come back until you fix whatever you’ve broken.”

“But Liam, I––”

“What did I say, Niall?”  Liam throws the can down and hoists Louis up with both hands, easily walking past Niall and into the crowd of partygoers.

Niall watches Liam walking away until he’s out of sight, then grabs a clean plastic cup nearby and heads for the makeshift bar.  He looks through the sea of liquor bottles, snatching a half-filled bottle of vodka and pouring everything into his cup until it stops.  He takes several swigs when he walks through the crowd to get to the door, then takes a huge gulp when he’s in the hallway, letting the vodka burn all the way down his throat.

“God, this is pure gasoline,” he strains, his eyes tearing up from the strength of the alcohol.

Niall walks towards the elevators and holds his finger out to reach for the button, but makes a detour for the stairwell instead.  He makes his way to the roof, and walks through the cold space full of steel scaffoldings and lost soccer balls.  Niall looks over the ledge in the direction of Decuyper House, and wonders if Harry is there, coming up with ways to never to speak to him again.  Niall wouldn’t blame him for it.  Even if Harry punched him in the face, he’d take it, knowing he’d made a fool of him.

Niall drinks from his cup and notices Zayn running toward the house in a hurry.  He curiously looks over to the large parking lot, catching a glimpse of small car idling at the exit.  The lamppost across the street flickers, and the memory of the time he built his paper balloon replays in his mind.  It seemed a far-fetched idea to make such a contraption, but Niall wanted to make it work, he wanted to show Harry how much he cared by inventing something just to wish him good luck.  The flickers of light slowly turn off and soon glows into a bright white, breaking Niall from his trance.  The small car makes a left turn and Niall takes one last gulp of his drink, carelessly throwing the cup over the ledge and sits down with his back against the brick wall.

Niall pulls his knees up, shaking his head back and forth to keep himself awake from the alcohol taking over.  He takes out his phone, and still, there are no texts from Harry.  Unlocking the screen, he looks through his messages, and reads through the saved conversations he’s kept of Harry since they first traded numbers.  All the useless trivia, jokes, and photos they sent each other were there, even all the times he’d asked Harry if he needed something to eat.  Niall had saved every single photo that included Harry’s smiling face, just so he’d have something to keep close.  He taps the bottom of the screen that brings up the keyboard, thinking about what he needs to say to Harry.

_I was stupid and I didn’t mean what I said earlier._  
 _I’ve wanted to be with you since we first met and I ruined everything._  
 _Please just talk to me.  I’ll never hurt you again._

Niall struggles to type his first word for several minutes, ultimately turning off his phone and giving up, knowing Harry won’t respond to him no matter what he says.  He stuffs his phone in his jeans and crosses his arms, letting the winter breeze bite through the maroon sweater he borrowed from Harry.  The sweater was big on him, but it kept him warm enough, just like Harry always did when they slept together.  Sleeping with Harry was all Niall looked forward to, the closure he felt when they were wrapped in each other’s arms, their legs tucked into each other like pieces of a puzzle.  Watching Harry wake up in the morning was a treat, the way his curly hair reached unmentionable heights and his cranky attitude always made Niall laugh, and made him wish he could photograph every moment they spent in bed.  But now Niall’s not so sure Harry would ever want to look him in the eye, let alone sleep with him again.

“I can’t believe I fucked it all up,” Niall sniffles, rubbing his arms.  “Just strike me dead if he never comes back.”

Niall inhales deeply, taking in the cold air through his warm nose.  He closes his eyes for what only seems to be five minutes, and wakes up when his phone chimes loudly through his jeans.  He quickly pulls it out, hoping it’s Harry, but immediately freaks out when his phone tells him it is three in the morning, and ignores the message from a classmate asking to borrow a flash drive.  Niall cleans himself off, making a mad dash down the stairs and out of MacDiarmid Hall.  Several students still wander around campus, and a few of them continually yell out Niall’s name to get his attention, making him increasingly irritable.  Their voices weren’t the ones Niall wanted to hear; he wanted to hear Harry calling for him, telling him to come home.

The vodka Niall drank earlier is thankfully wearing off, and he manages to make it back to Decuyper House in one piece.  Niall searches his pockets when he reaches the front door and pulls out his access card, letting out a loud sigh when he enters the house.  The living room lights are still on and Zayn’s lying on the sofa, watching a late-night movie.  Niall walks backward to shut the door, and notices several dents on the usually smooth surface when he turns around.  He softly runs his fingers over the wooden welts, curious of how they got there.  He shakes the thought and quietly walks towards the staircase, making it halfway up when Zayn stops him.

“He’s not here,” Zayn says calmly.

Niall sighs and hangs his head back, then asks, “Who’s not here?”

Zayn shifts his feet, tightly gripping the railing.  “Harry.”

Niall immediately snaps his head up and looks directly at a frightened Zayn, waiting for his impending outburst.  It takes Niall a minute to take it all in when it finally hits him: “Harry left in a small car, didn’t he?  Was that why you were running back to the house?”

“He had a family emergency,” Zayn swallows hard, his eyes growing a little bigger.  “He had to leave.”

“But why!” Niall panics.  “Why would he do that, it’s not like him to do that!”

“He got a call from his mom during the party, he was pretty worried.”

“And you didn’t stop him!?  What the fuck were you thinking, Zayn!”  Niall’s starting to hyperventilate, refusing to believe any of this is real.  Harry wouldn’t just get up and leave, not without saying goodbye.

“Did you want me to tell him he can’t go home?” Zayn asks, looking away from Niall.  “Did you want me to tell his mother she can’t have her son when she needs him the most?”

“Fuck!  Fuck fuck fuck!” Niall shouts.

Niall runs up the stairs and down the hall, nearly breaking down the bedroom door when he opens it.  The linens of Harry’s bed were unmade, and all the plastic bins that were usually under his bed were upturned and empty.

“No,” he says breathlessly.  “Zayn’s lying, he’s fucking lying!”

Niall runs to their closet, finding the doors open and half the hangers inside bereft of Harry's clothing.  He runs back to the empty bins, searching over and under his mattress, and nearly breaks Harry’s work desk looking for any trace of him––anything that would tell Niall that Zayn was messing with him.

“No no no, Harry, please!” Niall says in a near sob.  “Please don’t leave, I need you!”

Niall shoves Harry’s work chair across the room and falls to the floor on his knees, trying to hold back his tears.  He slumps forward and his hands grip the soft gray carpet when he spots a torn piece of paper near his own desk.  He crawls over and reaches for it, immediately recognizing Harry’s handwriting.  Niall can’t make out half of the words, and he frantically looks around until he finds the other half of the note by his bed.  He links the pieces together, then reads the note out loud when he finally deciphers the letters: _Think of me when you wear this and let it guide your heart to mine_.

"No, I’m sorry!" Niall shouts, his eyes welling up with tears.  "My heart was always yours.  From the very start, I swear it's always been yours."

Niall's thumb brushes the corner of the small card, and he notices a missing chunk of the material, clearly having been attached to something.  Niall puts the note on his desk and searches the room again, looking for the card's origin.  He looks all over until he spots a small white box lodged between the wall and his green backpack by the foot of his bed.  He picks it up and notices its crushed appearance, as if someone bashed it with a rolling pin, then slowly opens its lid, finding a silver compass pendant inside.

" _Guide your heart to mine,_ " Niall whispers once, then repeats it until it becomes a chant.  His eyes widen, and makes the connection between the note and the necklace.  “He was going to give this to me?” he asks surprised.  “He was supposed to–– _oh god!_ "

Niall's heart begins to race, and his hands shake when he removes the necklace from its foam placeholder, struggling to unclasp the hook with his blunt fingernails until it finally opens.  He wraps the black cord around his neck, hooking it securely, and softly touches the pedant that rests on his chest.  A knock raps at the door and Niall immediately runs to it, hoping Harry would be on the other side when he opened it.

"Harry, you've come back––oh, it's you."  Niall is disappointed when he finds Zayn in front of him, wearing an oversized t-shirt of Scrooge McDuck that dwarfs his appearance.  “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Never mind what I’m wearing,” Zayn says blankly.  “I heard you shouting, are you all right?”

“I was doing fine until your dumb ass showed up!  Just fuck off!” Niall grits through his teeth, slamming the door in Zayn’s face.

“Why are you such an asshole to everybody!” Zayn shouts, kicking the door with enough force to make the walls shake.  “It’s no wonder Harry left if this is how you treat him!”

Niall is shocked when he hears Zayn’s words, and he begins to suspect Zayn might know a lot more than he’s letting on.  “Harry didn’t leave because of me!  He wouldn’t do that!” Niall shouts, running back to his bed.  He grabs the first object within reach, and hurls his laptop charger at the door. Niall can hear Liam shouting across the hallway, but he doesn't care enough to fight back.

Niall slumps over the side of his bed and buries his face in his duvet, crying for several minutes over what could have been the best night, but turned into the worst.  He wipes away his tears when he stands up, and walks over to his desk, reaching into the one of the drawers to pull out a tape dispenser.  He carefully tapes Harry's note back together and flips it over, grabbing a pen to write on the blank space: _You’ll never need a compass to know my heart will always be yours_.

Niall sniffles a little when he stands up, then sets the card on Harry’s empty desk.  “I mean every word of it, Harry.”

Niall straightens Harry’s bed linens, smoothing out any wrinkles and lines that happened to appear.  He fluffs up Harry’s pillows and catches the lingering scent of his minty shampoo, its soothing notes making his stomach tighten and his heart weak.  Niall walks back to his own bed and pulls out his clothing bins, quickly changing out of his jeans and into a pair of red flannel pajamas, leaving on Harry’s maroon sweater.

Niall grabs his phone and duvet, throwing both of them in the direction of Harry’s bed when he walks towards the door to turn off the lights.  He jumps into bed, adjusting to the position he’d always slept in with Harry, and wraps himself in the warm blanket.  Grabbing his phone, he looks through his photo albums, and selects his favorite picture of Harry: he had just entered the room after a shower and Niall snapped the picture at the right second, capturing him in mid-surprise.  Harry’s half-smile and green eyes shine brightly through the screen, and it’s all Niall needs to see at this very moment.  He sets the photo as his phone’s lock screen, then nestles it on the pillow next to him, pretending Harry is right beside him.

“I wish this was just a dream,” Niall says softly.  “I just want to wake up and pretend none of this happened, that I finally kissed you and told you how I felt.”

The screen goes black and he quickly turns it back on again, desperate to see his artificial Harry one more time.  “I’m so selfish for wanting you here when your family needs you,” he says with a sigh, and closes his eyes when his phone turns off again.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

–

Niall sits at the foot of his own bed, staring at Harry’s phone number.  It’s been several hours since he left, and Niall can’t seem to make up his mind over whether or not he’d like to call and apologize or simply keep quiet.  But he can’t keep quiet about this to Harry, not when this has been killing him on the inside since it happened.  Niall closes his eyes and slowly exhales, listening to soft music playing on his mini-stereo.  Then, after a minute, Niall lowers his thumb and finally taps the call button.  The phone rings and he waits a few seconds, hoping to at least leave a message.  Harry picks up after the second ring and Niall’s heart races, quietly taking a deep breath before he finally speaks.

“Harry?” Niall says softly.  “Are you there?”

Harry’s quiet, but Niall can hear his breath hitch before he finally says something.  Niall tries to make Harry feel bad about leaving without saying goodbye, but for some stupid reason, he also thinks it would be a great idea to bring up the time they messed around.  Harry answers him coldly and Niall panics, immediately changing the subject to the compass necklace, only for Harry to stammer when he asks Niall if he likes it. Niall pounds his fist into the bed, hearing the heartbreak in Harry’s voice.  He didn’t just hurt Harry, he tore his heart to pieces, and there’s a price he’s going to pay for his stupidity.

Niall thinks Christmas wishes aren’t such a bad idea now; maybe he can wish for the possibility of time travel––going back to the moment where his and Harry’s lips were so close to the touch.  He could have told Harry, “ _I might be in love with you, please say you feel the same,_ ” instead of walking away.

“Funny how we both got each other necklaces… don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it’s… really weird,” Harry says quietly.

 _I have to say something, I have to tell him I’m sorry, it’s my only chance._  “Harry, what I said last night, I didn’t––”

“Ihavetogonow!” Harry blurts out.

“Wait!  Please just stay on the line for a few more minutes!  I swear it was a mistake––”

“I’ll call you back later, reallyhavetogonowbye!”

Niall throws his phone across the room when Harry abruptly ends the call, and he covers his face with his pillow, screaming into it before he lets out a sob.  He presses his fingers into his eyes, wiping away the tears that escaped as he tries to compose himself.  He hears a tap at the door and quickly turns his back, hiding his reddened face when it creaks open.

“You all right, Niall?” Zayn asks quietly. Niall stays silent, and Zayn shifts his feet, his hand turning the squeaky door knob to break the tension.  “Liam brought us some breakfast.  Come downstairs and recharge your batteries.”

“Sure,” Niall sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.  “Give me a minute, yeah?”

“Don’t take too long,” Zayn replies, and shuts the door.

Niall sits up and removes Harry’s sweater, holding the soft material in his hand.  “I just wanted to wake up with him in my arms,” he shakily says, picking off a strand of his blond hair.  “And yet I woke up to a ghost of where he should have been.”

Niall drapes the sweater at the foot of Harry’s bed, then walks towards the door, opening it before he looks back.  He imagines Harry sitting at his desk with his laptop, typing the endless web coding that made him so pensive and wound up.  Niall couldn’t help but admire how hard Harry worked on his assignments, fixing every minute detail until everything was perfect.  Niall can’t even count the times he wanted to run his fingers through Harry's soft curls, whisper sweet nothings in his ear, and kiss him like time didn’t matter.  Time always flew by a lot faster when he spent it with Harry.

“I'll do anything to make this right, Harry,” Niall says softly.  “I'll do anything for you.”


End file.
